“Is it supposed to be this hard?” I whined to my mom in an email on Tuesday night. I remember in years gone by that seniors generally didn’t seem like they were having problems until the second semester, when the crunch really hits. But sure enough, Tuesday afternoon saw me sitting on the floor, looking despondently at the mess in my room while scarfing down Lucky Charms like my life depended on it.

Taking 20 credits, working two jobs, and writing your thesis doesn’t leave for a whole lot of free time, and that’s a pretty hard thing to adjust to. I usually like to procrastinate – I work better with a gun to my head, it seems. But now I have to work in advance, because I don’t have time to do things the way I normally do.

This weekend, I don’t even have time to drink. What is my world coming to?

As for lessons learned these past two weeks or so, I realized the value of backing your sh*t up like your life depends on it. My thesis chapter was due on Monday. I didn’t finish it until Tuesday. Now, because I have an older version of OpenOffice (a free version of Microsoft Office, essentially), when my computer decided to spazz out, I lost 11 out of 12 pages.

Cue comfort food binging. Read More »

You do it every year without fail. There’s a string of weeks where you’re nice and organized with all your notes in the right folders, laundry done as soon as you’re running low on undies and putting everything where it belongs. And then, you forget your planner and decide you don’t feel like really carrying it, or you’re too tired to do that load of laundry…

Okay, it might not happen to you, but it happens to me.

Barely two weeks into the semester, and my room is still pretty navigatable, but far from clean. I can’t see the desk calendar where I put all of my due dates and meetings down anymore. I just don’t have the patience to be neat. I’m sure it’s a problem – I’ve been messy all my life – but I don’t really feel like fixing it. Read More »

Remember your senior year of high school? Touring colleges, trying not to get your hopes up. Retaking the SAT for the tenth time, wondering if you’d get a better score with the ACT. The love/hate relationship with collegeboard.com, and endless trips to the college counselor.

Then, THE WAIT. And running to the mail box every day. Staring at your application status page - pressing F5 over and over (refresh, refresh, refresh!). Until, one day that magical word appears: admitted.

Fast forward to September.
The move-in is over (your mom only broke down once, thank goodness). The awkward, “Hi, I’m going to be living in close quarters!” moment is over with your roomie(s) and classes have begun.

And an unsettling feeling set in. This place isn’t what you thought it would be. You try to love it - really you do - but it isn’t the right fit and you can’t seem to get into a groove. You know you could transfer but *argh!* you thought you were set! That the application insanity was done for good! What do you do? Read More »

It’s weird how when you’re away from your campus for so long and you finally roll into familiar stomping grounds, you feel like you never left. It seems like a dumb and cliché thing to say, but there’s something about being dropped from one familiar place (home) to another familiar place (school) that erases what little shock value might want to rear its ugly head.

Maybe it’s because I wanted to come back to school more badly than ever before, but I’m not having a hard time tucking summer into closets and chests. I’m still a little shell-shocked, though. I think it might have something to do with knowing that this is my last year here. I made this place my home more than real home, and not being here just sounds…wrong.

My school isn’t very nice to its upperclassmen, so I moved in on Saturday – which is a bitch when you live on the third floor with NO elevator – and started classes this Monday. I think maybe it’s to try and limit our Welcome Week to Welcome Weekend.

Like I told you guys last time, I’m playing the catch-up game, so I’ve got twenty credits this semester… and 16 next semester? Not sure how that one’s gonna work, what with my school only giving 4-credit courses, but I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. That’s five classes. Still, it’s nowhere near as bad as it sounds. There’s an ass-crack of dawn class (really, it’s only 8:30, but if the sun is still in the east it’s too early for me) that only has six people in it, a general psychology class STOCKED with freshmen (more on that later), an acting class that I can already see is going to be my chill-class, a colonial American Literature class with a professor who loves to hear himself talk, and an advanced poetry class that I still haven’t taken and I’m a little worried about. Read More »

9. I HAVE FRIENDS
As soon as I arrive home from school for summer break I spend the next three months filling my family members in on everything that happened to me throughout the year. I expect them to smile, laugh, cry, and sob at all the appropriate moments in a story and I can’t lie, I get very angry when they don’t. I cannot comprehend why my mom doesn’t find it hilarious that I woke up next to a homeless man one morning. Even my dog is walking out on my, “and one time at school…” stories when August arrives. So it’s always exciting to get back to school and be around the people that star in all my stories.

8. ALCOHOL IS TO GET DRUNK
One of the hardest parts of readjusting to home life is drinking alcohol in moderation. When I first came home my parents would offer me a glass of wine at dinner and I would chug it down and put my glass out for more. They told me I needed to learn moderation, I told them that they needed to learn that if they wanted to get buzzed before the first course they would have to sip a little faster. They suggested I might be an alcoholic, I suggested that they suck. I can’t wait to go back to school, drink wine from a box and take shots of what may or may not be rubbing alcohol and not get stared down for getting drunk before sunset.

7. NO PARENTS
I’m very old now and so its ludicrous for me to have any rules when I’m home. However that doesn’t stop my mother from playing twenty questions every time I go out or come home. How was it? Who was there? Does she like school? What did you drink? Did you buckle up? How much did you tip? Did you see anyone from high school? Really? She got that fat? I love being at school and stumbling home at 3 a.m and having no one care. I love waking up underneath the kitchen table and not having to give anyone a reason why. Read More »

By my senior year of college, I could fly through my assignments and earn A’s on half-assed work. I could effectively balance bar-hopping and writing essays, and working part-time jobs and cramming for midterms. I knew that grad school would kick it up a notch, and I was ready for the challenge. However, I had forgotten what it felt like to try and not succeed, and I wasn’t quite as prepared for my self-esteem to take a beating.

I admit to not putting 100% into my academic efforts in college, but that was because I didn’t need to. I was writing papers with a buzz on and taking finals hungover, and still made Dean’s List. I knew that grad school would be different though, and I fully intended on being a legitimate scholar.

If you are considering grad school, you are probably doing very well in school. By senior year, you’re probably breaking the curves and tutoring your friends. You probably stand out in class for having thoughtful ideas and a firm grasp of the subject matter. Newsflash: Everyone in Grad School has gotten used to being a star scholar.

Often, PhD students and MA students will be mixed into classes together. I went from taking Shakespeare classes with business majors who didn’t know the definition of “iambic pentameter” to listening to a PhD debate over which folio edition was most likely the Bard’s original manuscript. WTF? My thoughts exactly. Read More »

So I haven’t posted in a while, mainly because I’m graduating in 20-freakin’-days, and boy oh boy the grind is on to make it across that finish line. With finals whoopin’ my ass 24/7 and the non-stop search for a job, I’ve barely had time to breathe, let alone get my “last month of college-let’s go crazy” drink on. It’s extremely depressing—and even more stressful.

I’m almost glad it’s over. (But not really—it sucks so bad!)

Anyway…with the little time I do have to sit back, atop my roof and think (we finally found a way up there and it’s incredible!) I’ve been reminiscing about the last four years and how great they have been. About all the good times and even the bad. About the tears we’ve cried and the laughs we shared, and most importantly, about the friends that have truly become like family—a family that is soon to part. It’s heart-breaking really.

But I’ve found a light at the end of the tunnel. I’ve discovered something sweet in this simply bitter situation. It’s the start of something new and I’m actually excited about it. Read More »